Love Can Build a Bridge
by singitanyway13
Summary: Love can build a bridge. Between your heart and mine. Love can build a bridge. Don't you think it's time? Read "Walk the Line," "Dead Flowers," and "Red Light" to understand this story.
1. Chapter 1

**Love Can Build a Bridge**

* * *

><p>"Is she playing kickball in there or what?"<p>

Reba chuckled as Brock held his hand on her belly where the baby was being quite active. They had gone out for dinner then come back to the hotel for an early night. They were just lying there talking when the baby decided to start kicking around.

"I don't know what she's doing." Reba turned on her side, trying to get her to settle down. She thought a change of position might do the trick. "She'll have to stop soon. I have to get some sleep. I've been so exhausted lately."

Brock reached up to brush her hair out of her eyes. "I know. Only a couple more weeks, though."

She was about to hit the six month mark, and even though she hadn't gotten very big, the whole pregnancy thing was the same as with her other kids. She was tired and moody all the time. And although she didn't have morning sickness, she had other things like weird cravings that Brock nearly became sick over watching her eat.

"I'm just ready to meet her." Reba closed her eyes and sighed, feeling Brock stroke her hair.

"Me, too."

She paused a minute before saying, "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I saw Jack Morgan today."

Reba felt him stop stroking her hair, but just for a moment. It was almost like a hitch of breath.

"Oh, yeah? Where?"

"At the office. His is just down the hall."

"Really?"

"Yes. And that's why I'm fixing to plead with you to stay in Houston."

Her eyes opened and Brock drew his hand away from her. "Please don't be mad at me."

He rolled on his back and tucked his hands behind his head. "I'm not mad."

"You look mad."

"Mad isn't the word. Upset, maybe."

"Brock, I'm sorry. How was I supposed to know he was going to be here?"

"You didn't. It's just that every time a golden opportunity comes along, something is always there to mess it up."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. Seems like this world is only for other people and Brock Hart just gets to halfway live in it."

"If that was true, how would we be where we are today? If that was true, we'd still be apart, living in separate states and living separate lives. Things work out like they're supposed to, and I'm not just saying that because I don't want to move here. I truly believe it."

Brock sighed, rolling back over to face her. "I just wanted something better for us. There would have been a huge salary increase."

"Brock, we don't need the money. We have plenty. We're comfortable and we always have been."

"I guess."

Reba placed her hand on his cheek. "Staying in Houston will be better. I promise. We'll have Jake and our beautiful baby girl in the same house and we have Cheyenne and Van and Elizabeth and Kasey just up the street. This is the kind of family I've always dreamed of, Brock, and I'm so grateful that you gave it to me."

In the darkness, Reba saw Brock smile just a bit. "I should be thanking you. You're the one that carried those kids for nine months." He took her hand off his cheek and kissed it. "You've given me so many great years."

"It doesn't have to end."

Brock nodded. "We'll stay in Houston, then. If that's what you really think is best."

"I do."

"Then I trust you."

He leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss, running his hand through her hair before pulling away.

"There's just one thing missing."

"What's that?"

"I just really want to call you my wife again."

* * *

><p>Nobody was really surprised when Brock and Reba announced that they were engaged. Everyone wanted them to have a big, lavish wedding and Van and Cheyenne even offered to send them on a honeymoon cruise. But they said no. Reba thought that a small, family ceremony in the living room would do just fine. But then there was the pesky dress problem. Her wedding dress didn't fit.<p>

That was when Brock suggested that they head on down to the courthouse. Reba couldn't have thought of a better idea herself. So, she dressed in a pretty lace dress and Brock in a suit, piled the family into two cars and they all went down to watch Brock and Reba wed for the second time.

It wasn't as romantic as a wedding on the beach, or as sweet as a ceremony in a church, but it was their own idea and they thought it was just perfect. When Brock slipped her wedding ring on her hand for the first time in nearly thirty years, tears sprung out in her eyes. She was beyond happy and she couldn't wait to meet this new baby and start a whole new chapter in her life with Brock.

* * *

><p>"You are so fat."<p>

Reba looked up from her phone to see Barbra Jean's wide eyes looking down at her.

"You've been here for two days and you're just now realizing this?"

Barbra Jean shrugged. "I hadn't paid much attention, but dang, girl."

Reba rolled her eyes. "Shut it. You were bigger than this when you had Henry."

Barbra Jean had flown down to Houston for a few days so she could visit with Reba before the baby came in two weeks. The two decided to go to the mall so Barbra Jean could buy the new addition some baby clothes and other things. Reba fought her tooth and nail, but finally agreed when Barbra Jean promised ice cream.

Which was what they were doing in the food court when Barbra Jean made the fat comment.

"I think we should head back to the house after this, Barbra Jean."

The blonde whined and pushed away her cup of Marble Slab ice cream. "But it's only..." She checked her watch. "Four o'clock. I haven't even picked out any cute clothes yet."

"We can go tomorrow. My back has been bothering me all day."

Barbra Jean sat up. "It has?"

Reba nodded and tried to rub her lower back. "Just been really achey. Probably from carrying around all this extra weight. I just wish my doctor would induce me already."

"Or you might already be in labor."

"What? No way. I've never gone early. I've always been right on time or with Jake, two weeks late."

"You're having back labor, my friend."

Reba almost started arguing, but Barbra Jean's words made sense.

"You think? I've never had back labor before."

"Only one way to find out." Barbra Jean stood and started collecting their shopping bags. "Let's go."

Reba carefully stood and smoothed her shirt over her belly. She couldn't even see her feet at this point, and she found herself hoping that Barbra Jean was right.

"You call Brock," Barbra Jean told her. "I'll get all the bags."

"Can you carry all that?"

"Yes. Get to callin'. We've got a baby to have."

Reba rolled her eyes but dialed Brock's number anyway. She could almost imagine him leaning on his golf club on the course to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, whatcha doin'?"

"Oh, I'm just at the driving range. You having fun shopping? Is Barbra Jean driving you crazy?"

"She's driving me, but not crazy. We're headed to the hospital. She thinks I'm in labor and I'm pretty sure she's right."

"Wait. What?"

"My back's been bothering me all day, and it never occurred to me that it's probably back labor."

"I'll meet you there, alright?"

"Okay. Thank you."

"Alright. See you in a few. I love you."

They hung up and Reba and Barbra Jean managed to make it to the car, bags in hand.

"Are you nervous?" Barbra Jean asked as she started the engine.

Reba felt the baby move around inside her and leaned her head back on the headrest. "Hell, yes."

* * *

><p><em><strong>I realize that I'm dumb for not explaining why the last story was called Red Light. You all are probably like: "I thinks she just picks words and throws them together for a title." Um...no. Red Light meant that there was this big red light (Jack Morgan and Boston) stopping Reba from being one hundred percent happy with her life. But now you guys know it all worked out. So, silly me for forgetting to explain that at the end of Red Light.<strong>_

_**But I hope you guys liked this update! Tell me whatcha think, 'cause I think it's pretty boring. **_


	2. Chapter 2

Seven hours later, four A.M. rolled around and Brock sat an uncomfortable vinyl chair with his chin in his hand by Reba's side. Her doctor had confirmed her being in labor and for the past seven hours, she had just been trying to rest. Every so often, she'd gasp with her contractions and Brock would wake up from his half sleep to help her through them. He held her hand, got her crushed ice, massaged her back, and read to her. Anything to get her mind off the pain.

Brock was just about to doze off for the thousandth time when he heard his wife groan beside him. He jerked up and looked over at her adjusting herself. He immediately scooted his chair closer to her and helped her with her pillows.

"Another one?"

She nodded and held the lower part of her stomach as her facial expression changed from somewhat peaceful to pain.

"Just breathe through it."

She nodded and took several deep breaths, relaxing as it passed.

"That one wasn't too bad." She leaned back onto the pillow and looked up at Brock. "Think we should call Barbra Jean? It's probably gettin' close."

Barbra Jean had gone back to Brock and Reba's house to get a few hours of sleep, but made the two promise they would call her when it was time. Brock, however, wasn't keen on the idea, and wanted to spend the moment his child came into the world with Reba. Not with Reba and Barbra Jean.

"Oh, let's not," He suggested.

"Brock... Like it or not, she's my best friend. What if I want her here?"

"Do you?"

"Boy, I should, shouldn't I?"

Brock chuckled and grasped her hand lightly. "Can we have this moment just the two of us? We won't get to do this again."

"You're darn right, we ain't doin' this again." She shut her eyes as another contraction rolled through her. She gripped his hand and listened to his soothing words, counting the seconds until it was over.

When it ended, there was a knock on the door and the doctor stepped in. He was a kind man. Tall, graying brown hair, been in the business for years. He was very caring and had delivered Cheyenne, Kyra, and Jake years ago.

"How are we doing?" He asked, going to the sink to wash his hands and put on gloves.

"I'm exhausted," Reba told him.

"Contractions very far apart?"

"Getting closer and closer."

He walked over to the bed and looked over the monitors, checking every detail. He was very thorough and Reba liked that about him. She didn't have to worry about being taken care of. Usually a nurse would come in to check on things, but since she was older and it was more of a risky pregnancy, Reba appreciated the doctor himself coming in.

"Her heart-rate is just where we want it to be."

"Everything else alright?"

"Perfect. We'll just check and see how far you are and go from there."

While the doctor did his business, Reba looked up at Brock who was awkwardly standing there with his hands in his pockets.

"You alright?" She asked him, reaching up and looping her hand around his arm.

He took his hand out of his pocket and grasped hers.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Well, you weren't, but I'm glad you took the hint. I'm fine."

The doctor rose and discarded his gloves in the nearby trash can, going to wash his hands once more.

"Well, you've dilated completely. You ready to have this kid?"

"Lord, yes." She looked up at Brock. "Ready?"

He squeezed her hand as a nurse appeared in the room, ready to go.

She got through the first push just fine. And the second. And the third.

"Give me a big one," The doctor urged.

She put her chin to her chest and bore down as another contraction began. Brock held onto her hand and counted to ten for her before she let up and went at it again. A moment later, she heard the doctor say, "Head's out."

Reba leaned back and took a few breaths, trying to rest before pushing again.

"Brock."

He looked up at the doctor who was pointing behind him.

"Yeah?"

"Go get some scrubs on. In that drawer over there. Wash your hands and get some gloves. You're gonna deliver this baby."

"Do...what?"

"Come on. Go put 'em on."

Brock looked at Reba who had her eyes closed and let go of her hand to do what the doctor requested. He came back and the doctor stood from the stool he had been sitting on.

"Sit down."

Brock did as he was told and looked up.

"Now what?"

"She pushes." The doctor put a hand on Reba's knee. "You ready?"

She nodded and adjusted herself before baring down. She let the tears that were forming in her eyes fall as she pushed once more. The pain was almost unbearable. She wasn't a sissy by any means, but this was something else. She let out a groan as she let up.

"Shit."

Brock's ears heightened at his wife's use of one of the words she hated most in the world. He figured she had to be in a lot of pain to use it.

"What am I supposed to be doing?" He asked the doctor.

"Gently hold the head. When it comes out, it'll be quick, alright? Hand it to Reba immediately, okay?"

"Alright. What if I drop her?"

"You won't unless you're just jacking around. So pay attention."

Brock nodded, turning his attention to Reba.

"Honey, are you listening?"

The tears were a constant flow now and she was trying to calm her fast breathing. She nodded as Brock continued.

"You're almost through. I can see the baby. I'm touching her. It's almost over, okay? One big push."

She went at it and Brock looked down to see the baby inch forward.

"Good girl. One more. Just one more."

Again, the baby moved forward and the shoulders became visible, then the torso, then the baby girl tumbled into his arms.

Reba gasped and Brock stood, laying his daughter on her mother's chest. With shaky hands, Reba touched her baby's head as the nurse cleaned out her nose and mouth. A gurgled cry came next and warm blankets were placed over her.

"Look at all her hair," Was the first thing Reba said.

Brock smiled and watched as two of the most beautiful girls in the world met for the first time.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Reba fell asleep after being in labor for seven hours. It sure was a change from the fifty-six she endured with Kyra. While Brock was exhausted himself, he promised Reba he'd watch the baby. She told him there was just something special about those first few hours, and that she would rather all three of them be in the same room rather than the little girl be in the nursery.<p>

So Brock sat in the rocking chair and cradled his baby girl in his arms. She was tightly wrapped in a blanket, a pink hat on her head to keep her warm. She had a tiny hospital bracelet that matched Reba's around her wrist, and, like Reba had said, she had a head full of dark brown hair.

Gently rocking back and forth in the chair, Brock looked down at his sleeping daughter. Her tiny eyes were closed and her lips were pursed. She was just so small, weighing in at seven pounds, four ounces.

"Esme Nohr Hart," He said, shaking his head with a smile. "Please don't hate your mama for giving you that name. I was against it. I wanted to name you Kate, but your mom said no." He paused, as if waiting for an answer. "You have a whole bunch of people who can't wait to meet you. Your brother and your sister and your...niece and nephew. Boy, that's odd to say, considering they're older than you." He rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "You're beautiful, you know that? Just like your mama and sisters. You're gonna be a good girl, right?"

Esme yawned and Brock chuckled.

"Good. Now, you go back to sleep, okay? Don't start crying. Mommy's trying to rest." He kissed her tiny forehead and continued to rock her, an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had been having those strange feelings for a while, but never said anything to Reba. He didn't want to worry her. He just shrugged them off like they were nothing. Especially now since he had a brand new baby girl he had to help raise. He was going to enjoy every second of it.

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><p><em><strong>Okay. First and foremost, you pronounce her name like this: Es-may Nor. Okie doke? ;D I figured that since the other two girls had unique names, why not give this one a unique name, too. Review, puh-lease. ((:<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

****When Reba and Brock walked in the house with Esme the next day, the whole family was waiting in the living room for them.

"There they are!" Barbra Jean announced. "And she better not have a baby with her, 'cause she was supposed to call me!"

Reba smiled, walking out from behind Brock, holding the baby. "Sorry, Barbra Jean."

Barbra Jean forgot about being upset when she saw the tiny little girl in Reba's arms. Everyone let out an _Awwww!_ and wanted to hold her, though Van was first. When Reba placed her newborn in his arms, he cradled her close to him awkwardly.

"She's so small," He said. "What is she to me? My...aunt...?"

Cheyenne rolled her eyes, adjusting Esme's pink hat. "She's my sister so that would make her your sister-in-law."

"Oh. That is so weird. My twenty-four hours old sister-in-law." He looked up. "Can this family get any crazier?"

Cheyenne took the baby from him and smiled down at her. "She's just the cutest thing ever." She talked in a baby voice, touching her little nose and watching as the baby stirred.

"Did anybody tell Kyra?" Jake asked as he looked over Cheyenne's shoulder.

Nobody spoke for a moment.

"Kyra doesn't want to be a part of this family anymore," Cheyenne finally said.

"Cheyenne, that's not true," Reba told her as she relaxed in the chair, eager to let her family take care of her baby for a few moments. "Kyra does too want to be a part of this family. She's just trying to figure some things out right now."

"I left her a message on her phone," Brock said, going to sit down in the other chair. "She hasn't answered back."

"Well," Cheyenne said, passing the baby to Barbra Jean who had her hands held out. "I think that if someone walks out on their own terms, they shouldn't be allowed to come back that way. She's caused a lot of problems. And I don't just mean recently. She's always been dramatic."

"Cheyenne!"

The blonde looked up at her mother whose eyes were wide.

"Well, it's true..."

"No, it is not. Your sister is always welcome back. This is her home, just like it's yours and Van's and Elizabeth and Kasey's. Everybody has a place here if they want it."

"Well, she doesn't want it."

Reba shook her head. "I'm not going to sit here and argue about something so petty. Cheyenne, you're twenty-five years old. Why can't you get along with your sister?"

"Not talking to her for over a year hasn't helped."

"What are y'all talking about?" Barbra Jean asked.

The family looked up at her.

"What do you mean?" Reba asked her.

"Y'all haven't talked to Kyra in over a year?"

"Not since she moved out," Jake said. "That was when Mom and Dad got back together."

Barbra Jean looked around like someone had just told her the sky was about to fall.

"I talk to her all the time. She calls me every week. She even sends me pictures and tells me how y'all are doin'."

"Well, she's lying to you," Brock said, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

"What exactly has she told you?" Reba asked.

"Well, she's told me how your pregnancy is going, how Van and Cheyenne and the kids are. She's told me about her music and how she got signed to a major label. Y'all didn't know any of this?"

"She got signed to a record label?" Van asked. "I have a famous sister-in-law now?"

"Barbra Jean, I don't understand." Reba leaned forward. "She hasn't had any contact with us in over a year, like Cheyenne said. Why would she lie?"

"Because that's what she does best," Cheyenne said as she leaned against the couch, arms folded.

"We've never denied her coming back home," Reba explained. "We've left her countless messages, but she's never returned them. I honestly don't understand why she's so angry."

"Maybe she's like me," Jake said. "Maybe all she remembers is you and Dad fighting all the time. Maybe she was afraid to admit she was afraid."

Reba sat back in her chair and reflected on her son's words. Sometimes, she herself was afraid to admit she was afraid. She guessed that's where Kyra got it from. Reba used to run away when things got bad, she used to not talk about how she felt, but Brock helped her with that in the early years of their marriage. And when Brock began doing the same thing, she tried to help him. But Reba guessed Kyra saw how she handled problems, and figured it'd work for her. But Reba knew all too well it wouldn't help. In order to deal with an issue, you had to face it head on. Reba just wished she had gotten the chance to talk with her daughter about that.

"I miss her like heck," Reba said. "I just hope she's happy with whatever she's doing."

"She seems to be," Barbra Jean said quietly.

Reba nodded, sighing. "Good. I'm glad."

* * *

><p>A little while later, Van and Cheyenne took Jake and Barbra Jean out to eat so Brock and Reba could lie down and rest. Reba watched as Brock flopped down on the bed, sighing as he buried his head in his pillow.<p>

"Enjoy sleeping," Reba told him.

"Come lay down with me."

"I have to put Esme down, Brock." She walked over to the rocking chair that was by the window and sat down.

Esme was awake now, and crying her head off. Reba rocked her back and forth, patting her back, but nothing was working.

"Feed her or something," Brock begged from the bed, his head under his pillow. "I have to get some sleep. My head is pounding."

"Oh, I thought you liked the sound of a screaming baby. My bad."

Brock rolled over and looked at her.

"Look, I know that you just got home from the hospital, but you're on maternity leave. I'm not. I haven't slept since Thursday night. It's Sunday. Do the math."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm exhausted, too?"

"I just said it did."

Esme seemed to be getting more upset with her parents raising their voices. Her cries became louder and Reba finally stood to bounce her around the room, ignoring Brock for the moment.

"How do I get through one night without you? If I had to live without you, what kind of life would that be?" When Reba began singing to her little girl, the crying became soft whimpers, and finally, she drifted off to sleep. "Oh, I. I need you in my arms, need you to hold. You're my world, my heart, my soul. If you ever leave, baby you would take away everything good in my life. And tell me now. How do I live without you? I want to know. How do I breathe without you if you ever go? How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?"

It seemed as if Esme enjoyed the song that Brock and Reba had always called their own. Her little eyes were closed in sleep, and a soft snoring sound was heard. Reba smiled and kissed her baby's head before turning to Brock. He was konked out on the bed, spread out like a star with his mouth hanging open. Reba couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"You daddy's crazy," She whispered to Esme as she placed the baby in her bassinet.

She stayed there a moment, making sure the little girl was alright before turning to go downstairs. She had been aware of the enormous mess in the house the minute she walked in. It was as if fifty teenagers had been living there instead of one. Jake had obviously been slacking on his chores.

She started to load the dishwasher, humming the tune she had sung her baby to sleep with, when a knock at the front door made her put the task on hold. Jogging to the door so that it wouldn't wake Esme, Reba unlocked it and pulled the door open. What she saw nearly knocked the breath right out of her.

"Kyra."

Her daughter stood before her holding up her phone. Reba saw a picture of Esme that Brock had sent the day before.

"I guess I have a new sister?"

Reba nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "Yes, you do."

"Can I come in?"

Reba nodded once again and held the door open wider for Kyra, shutting it when she stepped in the house.

"Mom," Kyra said, turning to face her mother.

Reba looked up, overwhelmed that she was hearing her daughter say that word to her. It had been so long.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

Reba reached forward and brought the girl that looked so much like herself toward her for a hug. They stood there with their arms wrapped around each other for so long, tears streaming down Reba's face.

"I've missed you so much," She whispered.

"I missed you too, mom."

Reba could tell that there were tears in her daughter's voice. When she pulled away, she could see them in her eyes. Her daughter looked so grown up. She still had that long, curly red hair, but she was more womanly now than before. She was nearly twenty.

Reba reached out and touched her daughter's hair before putting her hands on her shoulders.

"I've got you here now. You're not leaving again."

They both smiled before Kyra said, "Can I see my sister?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Review and make my day? (:<em>**


	4. Chapter 4

Kyra and Reba talked for hours it seemed like. The nineteen-year-old told her mother all about her adventures and experiences in Los Angeles with her band and how they got signed to a major label. She spoke of how she was opening for Green Day that night at Reliant Stadium and wanted to know if everyone could come. The extra tickets she had her manager hold back would be sitting at will call.

"You're playing stadium shows?" Reba asked.

Kyra nodded. "That really doesn't happen this early on, but I guess their manager saw us playing in a club and contacted our manager and now we're opening for them on their new tour. They're really cool people."

Reba shook her head, placing her chin in her hand as the two sat at the kitchen table.

"Promise me you're being careful with all this fame and fortune stuff. It can change a person."

"I'm still the same Kyra. Money doesn't change that. I'm doing what I love, Mom. I'm not going to jeopardize that. The time I spent away from everyone was good in a way. It helped me figure out what I wanted in life. I had to actually go out and make decisions for myself. And I'll admit that it was scary at first."

"Growing up always is."

Kyra nodded. "The band really helped me through it."

"And your dad helped me."

"I hope so."

Reba sighed. "You dad and I really do get along better this time around."

"Well, you had another baby with him, so I'd say that that's probably the truth."

Reba sat back in her chair. "You've missed so much, Kyra."

"So have you."

"Your dad and I got married a few months ago."

"I noticed your ring. I got engaged."

"You what?"

"Kidding." Kyra smiled and laughed as Reba's eyes went from normal to the size of plates.

"Not funny."

"It was." She sat back and crossed her arms. "What does everyone else think of it?"

"Me and your dad getting married again? They were all for it."

"Well, I guess if I had stuck around, I probably would have warmed up to the idea."

"Everything happens for a reason. If we hadn't have had that fight, you wouldn't have left and you wouldn't have gotten your record deal. There aren't any hard feelings on my side. I hope there aren't any on yours."

Kyra scoffed. "I've grown up a lot, Mom."

"You seem to have."

"I realize what I did was immature. If my daughter had done that to me, I would have grounded her for life."

Reba laughed and Kyra shook her head.

"I'm serious. Why don't you hate me?"

"Mamas aren't allowed to hate. They're programmed to love you no matter what."

* * *

><p>It was decided that everyone but Reba and Cheyenne would go to the concert. They had to stay home and take care of Kasey and Esme, who were too small to go. Reba insisted she could handle both of them so Cheyenne could go along, but she refused. Reba knew that part of it was because she was still upset with Kyra, big recording artist or not, they were still quarreling sisters.<p>

"What do you think she's doing right now?" Reba asked as her and Cheyenne sat on the couch after everyone had left.

"Probably sitting in her dressing room or something." Cheyenne handed Kasey his sippy cup and the two watched as he toddled around the room, playing.

"I always wondered what that would be like, getting to sing onstage every night, sign autographs, live in a tour bus. A long time ago, it seemed fun."

Cheyenne looked at her mother. "You never told me that."

Reba nodded, looking down at Esme. She was sleeping, thankfully.

"Yeah, I had big dreams when I was younger."

"Of singing? I thought that was something you only did for fun."

Reba shook her head. "Nope. I wanted what Kyra has so badly."

"Why didn't you go for it?"

Reba looked at her daughter, almost with a sad face. "I met your dad, we got married, and had you."

Cheyenne blinked a few times. "I'm sorry."

Reba smiled. "What are you sorry for?"

"You make it sound like you blame me."

"Honey, I don't blame you. I wouldn't trade a single thing. You kids are my world."

Cheyenne watched her son. "You could have made it big, Mom. You know that."

"I really could have. A label in Nashville wanted to sign me."

Cheyenne turned to her mother with wide eyes. "What?"

"I sang at a lot of honkytonks and rodeos when I was younger. Back then, talent scouts were everywhere. A few approached me, and offered me a contract. But I was fixing to move to Houston to be with your dad, so I turned them down."

Cheyenne stared at her mother. "How? I mean, if I had big dreams like that, I don't know if I could have made that decision."

"It wasn't an easy one, that's for sure."

"Does Dad know?"

"No."

"Will you ever tell him?"

Reba shrugged, patting Esme's back to keep her asleep. "I never saw a reason to tell him. He'd just blame himself."

"Why did you tell me?"

"To show you that you kids are all equal. I turned down a recording contract because I knew that I wanted to have a family with your dad. Soon, I had two little girls running around. Two little girls who didn't always get along with each other, but two little girls who loved the other with all their hearts because they were sisters. You're not any better than Kyra, Cheyenne. And she's not any better than you. Don't waste precious time by fighting." Reba nodded towards Esme. "Now I have three little girls. She's going to grow up wanting to be just like you and Kyra. I want you two to set an example for her."

Cheyenne stared at her baby sister, realizing that what Van said all the time was true. Their family truly was crazy. But she wouldn't trade a second of it.

"Alright. I'll...talk with her."

Reba wrapped an arm around Cheyenne. "Thank you. It means the world to me."

Cheyenne laid her head on her mom's shoulder. "Sometimes I wish I was still little."

"I know you do, honey. But you have a beautiful life with Van and Elizabeth and Kasey. And I know you're thankful for it." Reba laid her head against Cheyenne's. "Please be careful of how you treat that life."

Cheyenne nodded. "I will."

"Not everybody gets a second chance. Lord knows I never thought I would."

"You and Dad have got to be the luckiest people alive. You have the sweetest love story."

"Sweet? That's not the word I would have chosen."

Cheyenne laughed. "You fell in love in college, stayed married for twenty years, had three kids, fell apart, got back together and had another baby. Sounds pretty sweet to me."

"I wouldn't have changed a thing. Best part about it is I didn't lose a thing. Only gained."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thanks for all the reviews! I'm going to start getting into Van and Cheyenne's life a bit more. I haven't seen a lot of authors do that, but don't worry. The main focus is still on Breba. ;D<em>**


	5. Chapter 5

After their little heart to heart, Reba and Cheyenne began to talk about stuff that wasn't so heavy, such as kids and work. Reba laid on the couch with Esme dozing on her chest, while Cheyenne sat in one of the chairs.

"Is it weird having a baby after not having one for fourteen years?" Cheyenne asked.

Reba shrugged. "I guess, but I still know how to do everything, so that's good." They shared a laugh before Reba said, "She's a good baby. I don't think she'll be much trouble."

"I wish I could say that about Kasey. He's just everywhere, you know? Elizabeth wasn't like that. She was calm and would play quietly by herself. You remember. But Kasey..." Cheyenne shook her head. "I guess he's just more like Van than me. He hardly ever sits still."

"It's always neat to see your kid's personality emerging."

"It is, but I just wish he'd tone it down a bit. I turn around for one second and he's gotten into a cabinet and pulled stuff out or he's trying to climb up onto the dining room table. He's always trying to bother Elizabeth. Always trying to hit her with something."

"Is Elizabeth getting used to Kasey taking up a lot of your time? Lord knows you didn't like it when I had to tend to Kyra when she was a baby."

"She's doing okay for the most part, but I mean, it's understandable that she feels left out sometimes. That's why I try to include her in everything. Like shopping or doing laundry. Stuff that the two of us can do."

"I remember when we first brought Kyra home, you kept asking when we were going to take her back to the hospital."

"I did?"

Reba nodded. "You would hide her toys so she couldn't play with them, you would scare her, you'd lock her in the closet. You tortured her."

"I don't remember any of that."

"If I did that to my sister, I'd choose not to remember either."

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. "She probably deserved a lot of it."

"Well, I remember when Kyra was ten months old and she caught pneumonia and she had to be put in the hospital."

"I remember that. Grammy Liz stayed here with me."

"Yes. And when your dad came and picked you up so you could go visit her, when you got there, you started crying because she was in that little box, you called it. You were so scared for her."

Cheyenne sat back. "I really didn't hate her."

"I know you didn't. And she never hated you."

Cheyenne watched as Kasey toddled towards the couch holding his toy car he loved so much. She could only hope her kids would grow up loving each other. She'd hate to see them fight like her and her sister fought. She could only imagine what it did to her mom.

A moment later, Cheyenne was brought out of her thoughts by her little boy passing in front of her. Before she could stop him, Kasey stopped in front of Reba, reared back and whacked Esme on the back with his toy car. She started wailing and Reba opened her eyes as Cheyenne gently grabbed the little boy's arm, pulling him to her.

"Kasey, we do not hit others," She sternly told him as Reba sat up with Esme, patting her back where she had been hit. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"She's okay," Reba assured her, standing. "I think it startled her more than anything. She's just fussy. Plus I think she needs changing."

While Reba headed upstairs, Cheyenne turned her attention back to Kasey. The little boy with blonde hair and chubby cheeks looked at his mother with his puppy dog eyes and Cheyenne almost caved. But she knew he had to be punished in some way or he'd just keep hitting people. That's what he did a lot of the time and Cheyenne didn't know where he had picked it up.

Still holding his little arm, Cheyenne took his toy car away from him.

"Wheels!" He shrieked, reaching for his toy.

Cheyenne stood and put the toy on the bookshelf, out of reach. "No, Kasey. You hit Esme with Wheels. You can't have him now."

"Wheels!" He pointed as tears started streaming down his face.

Instead of giving him his toy, Cheyenne sat him down on the couch and handed him his sippy cup. She knew it would make him hyper, but for a few minutes, he would calm down and then eventually crash.

While he drank, Cheyenne grabbed his diaper bag and began searching for some kind of snack for him but found that she had none. When she looked back over at him, she found that the couch cushion next to her was unoccupied, the empty sippy cup lying where Kasey had been. A second later, a thud was heard and Cheyenne looked behind her. Over by the dining room table, Kasey stood pulling books off the bookshelf, one by one. Eventually, Esme could be heard crying upstairs.

Rushing to his side, Cheyenne pulled Kasey away and began putting the books back while the almost two years old little boy crawled off to places unknown.

When Cheyenne finished cleaning her son's mess, she stood and looked around the corner for him. Up the stairs a bit, he sat on his knees, dragging something colored across the wall.

"Kasey!" Cheyenne exclaimed, grabbing the tube of lipstick from him. "Where did you get a hold of this?"

The blonde boy just looked at her as she inspected the damage. All over the white wall was red lipstick in a zigzagged pattern. Cheyenne put her head in her hands as she scooped Kasey up and put the lipstick tube up on the shelf by his toy car. She carried him into the kitchen and set him down in the highchair that was kept at Reba's house, and put a container of yogurt and a kiddie spoon in front of him. Usually, that kept him busy for fifteen minutes or so. Just enough time for Cheyenne to sit down and recharge.

While he was eating, Reba came back downstairs and walked into the kitchen.

"What's with the bloodstain on the wall?" She asked, going to the refrigerator and taking out a bottled water.

Cheyenne lifted her head from off the counter where she was sitting. "It's lipstick. I'll take care of it in a minute. I've been going nonstop all day. I just needed a second to sit down and think."

Reba nodded. "I understand. I haven't slept but maybe four hours since Thursday night and your dad hasn't had much rest either."

"Then go to bed, Mom. I don't need you to entertain me. It's almost midnight. I'm sure the concert is almost over. Everyone will be back soon."

Reba shook her head. "I'm fine. I don't get to see you much."

"Yes, you do. Like, every other day."

"Well, I got so used to seeing you every day that every other day seems like forever."

Cheyenne laughed as Reba wrapped her arm around her shoulders. "You're a good mommy."

Cheyenne leaned her head on Reba's shoulder. "So are you."

* * *

><p>A short while later, after Cheyenne had finally gotten Kasey to go to sleep in her arms, she heard a car pull up in the driveway and she knew everyone was back. As Brock unlocked the door and led the laughing family inside, Cheyenne stood.<p>

"Stop."

They all ceased movement and looked at her.

"What's wrong?" Van asked.

"I just got Kasey to fall asleep. Be. Quiet."

They all tiptoed in and sat down to relay stories from earlier in the night.

"Did you have fun, Lizzie?" Cheyenne asked her daughter as she crawled onto the couch beside her.

"Yeah!"

"Kyra let her go onstage and sing Miley Cyrus," Brock said.

"No, it's called Pumpin' Up the Party, Grandpa," The little girl explained with an eyeroll.

"She did?" Cheyenne asked her dad.

"During the run-through before the show, yeah."

"Well, I'm glad you all had fun." Cheyenne glanced at Van who was falling asleep in the chair. That was when she stood and said, "I think it's about time we get going."

At that moment, Reba came downstairs and noticed everyone was back. "Hey. Did everyone have a good time?"

Elizabeth stood and ran to her. "I got to sing!"

"You did?"

The little girl wrapped her arms around Reba's legs and nodded. "I want to be a singer. Just like Aunt Kyra."

Reba smiled and looked down at her granddaughter. "If you work at it, you just might be."

Cheyenne thought about what her mother had told her earlier. If Elizabeth wanted to be a singer so badly in the future, or any other thing for that matter, she hoped she'd let someone know and not go through life with so many 'what ifs.'

"Van, let's get going," Cheyenne said, standing with Kasey. "Can you drive?"

Van opened his eyes and looked at Cheyenne. "Huh? Yeah. I'm fine. I'm good. Just a bit drowsy."

"Okay. Well, let's hurry. Elizabeth needs to get in bed."

Cheyenne looked toward the little girl who was still over by Reba. Elizabeth motioned her to bend down so she could whisper something to her. When Reba shook her head no, Elizabeth folded her arms and started pouting.

"Elizabeth," Cheyenne said. "What's wrong?"

"She wanted to stay over," Reba explained. "And I told her that it was probably best if she just went home with y'all. The baby's gonna be up all night and I want her to get her rest."

"I wanna stay with Grandma!" Elizabeth announced, a bit louder than Cheyenne would have liked.

"Don't yell," Cheyenne warned. "Inside voice."

"But I wanna stay!"

"You have school in the morning, Elizabeth. Don't you want to see all your friends and Miss Carmen?"

"No!"

"Elizabeth," Reba said. "You have to go to school so you can draw pretty pictures and learn new things. It's fun!"

"I hate school."

"You do not," Cheyenne said. "Now, come on. We have to go."

"No!"

Van walked over to his daughter and scooped her up. "Let's go."

She started screaming and kicking, carrying on as Van carried her out to the car. Cheyenne looked towards her parents.

"I'm sorry."

"You reap what you sow," Reba said with a smile. "She'll be fine."

"Yeah. She's just tired."

"She'll have forgotten all about staying over by the time she gets home. I promise."

Brock handed Kasey's diaper bag to his daughter and said, "You always forgot."

Cheyenne nodded. "Thanks, you guys."

"You're welcome," Reba told her. "Now get on home. I'll talk to you later."

Cheyenne said her goodbyes and walked out to the car, still hearing Elizabeth shrieking. As she opened the door to Kasey's side, she heard what her daughter was upset about.

"I want to listen to the Kids!" She announced, sitting in her car seat. Van was up front, pounding his head against the steering wheel repeatedly.

"What's going on?" Cheyenne asked.

"She wants to listen to the CD of the Kids singing, but I told her no. She won't listen."

"Elizabeth," Cheyenne said as she strapped Kasey in. "We can listen to the Kids on the way to school tomorrow, alright?"

"But I want to listen to them now!"

Cheyenne finished buckling Kasey in before going around and getting in on the passenger side of the car. The whole way home, they listened to Elizabeth carry on. Cheyenne knew it was only because she wanted attention, but she wasn't going to give in.

When they arrived home, Cheyenne put Kasey to bed, then went to tuck Elizabeth in as well. She was already in her pajamas, with the help of Van, and was sitting up in her princess bed, waiting.

"You all ready for bed?" Cheyenne asked, turning on Elizabeth's lamp before turning out the overhead light.

"Yep!" She pulled the covers back and showed her mother the front of her shirt. "Look. It looks like Aunt Kyra!"

Cheyenne studied the picture of Strawberry Shortcake her daughter was showing her, and thought about how her sister would never be caught dead skipping through the woods in a pink dress, holding a basked of strawberries.

"It kind of does."

Elizabeth smiled and snuggled beneath the covers. Cheyenne leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'm sorry that Kasey has been taking up a lot of my time," She said. "But that doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We'll go do something together this weekend. That sound good?"

"Can we go to the bounce-arounds?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

"Just me and you?"

"Just me and you."

* * *

><p>Three A.M. rolled around and Reba was up with Esme, who was screaming her head off. Reba tried feeding her, changing her, singing to her, bouncing her. Nothing worked.<p>

"Baby, please go to sleep," She begged, walking around the room with her. "Mommy has to get some rest."

Esme just kept on wailing. Reba looked down at her baby and realized what the issue was. Her pajamas were too small for her.

"Is that what it is?" Reba chuckled and laid Esme on the changing table, exchanging her white onesie for a pink one. "There you go. That better?"

The screaming let up a little and Reba picked her up again, running her fingertips across her forehead. "You sure are a girl. Crying 'cause your clothes are too tight." Esme yawned and Reba smiled. "But you're beautiful in every way. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Before long, Esme quieted down and fell asleep. Reba placed her in her bassinet and turned on her mobile before laying down at the foot of her crib on the floor. And that was where they stayed for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p><em><strong>That was the longest chapter I've written yet! Thanks for all the reviews, guys. (: I promise it'll get more interesting.<strong>_


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Cheyenne woke up to a high-pitched scream. She sat up in bed, taking note that Van was in the shower, and got out of bed, stumbling among the toys in the hall to Kasey's room. She flipped on the light and saw him standing up in his crib, crying.

"Good morning, little man," She said, lifting him out of his crib and carrying him to the changing table where she changed him and carried him to back to her room. He was very content to play with Wheels on the carpeted floor while Cheyenne got dressed for the day.

After a minute, however, he became bored with his game and crawled out of the room. Cheyenne didn't even notice he was gone until he heard Elizabeth squeal from down the hall. Cheyenne hurriedly put pulled her shirt over her head and raced out. When she arrived in her daughter's room, she saw Kasey standing on Elizabeth's bed with Cheyenne's old baton raised over his head, ready to strike his sister. Elizabeth was curled up in a ball under the covers.

"Kasey, no," Cheyenne said, taking the baton from him. "We do not hit." She set Kasey on the floor and pulled back the covers. "Did he hit you?" She asked.

Elizabeth nodded, sitting up. "I didn't do anything. He hit me first."

Cheyenne looked down to Kasey, but he was gone. Groaning, she left Elizabeth's room in search of him.

A moment later, she found him in her room being picked up by Van.

"Hey, little guy," Van said. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Wreaking havoc." Cheyenne held up her baton. "He hit Elizabeth with this again. I don't know where else to hide it."

"Aww, can't you just let him play with it?"

Cheyenne was taken aback. "No. It's dangerous. How can you not see that?"

Kasey was looking back and forth at his parents as they spoke, oblivious of the problems he had created.

"Well, you kind of deprive him of everything." Van bounced him up and down and listened to him giggle. "He's just trying to be a man."

"He's not going to be a very good one if he grows up hitting girls."

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, not finding the energy to continue the argument. It was a stupid one anyway.

Once downstairs, she placed the baton in the dryer. It was one of the few places she hadn't hidden the baton yet, and she was hoping Kasey wouldn't find it there. He sure was smart for being only a year and a half old. Heading out of the laundry room, she continued to the kitchen to make breakfast. Van came down with Kasey a few minutes later.

Cheyenne looked down at the bowl she was pouring Cheerios into as Van sat Kasey in his highchair.

"Thank you for dressing him," She said.

"Anytime."

Cheyenne sat his baby cereal in front of him, letting him feed himself this morning, and turned to the counter. But Van grabbed her arm, turning her towards him.

"I don't like to fight with you, Cheyenne."

"Well, I don't like it either."

"Then let's stop," He said. "It's pointless. All it does is make us both look like idiots."

Cheyenne nodded. "Alright. No more fighting."

Van pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head as Elizabeth came in.

"Good morning," Cheyenne said, moving the Cheerios in front of her daughter. "Look, Daddy. Elizabeth picked out her own clothes."

"You look very nice, Lizzie," Van said, sitting at the table.

"Do you want orange juice, Lizzie?" Cheyenne asked.

"Yes, please."

"Alright. And after breakfast, we're going to call Grandma, okay?"

"I'm going to Grandma's house?"

"No, not today. We're going to call and apologize for how you behaved last night."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," Van said, pouring Froot Loops into his bowl. "You were being very belligerent last night."

"What's belligerent?"

"Wild and crazy."

"Oh..."

"Yes," Cheyenne said, handing Elizabeth her orange juice. "It would be very nice to apologize to Grandma _and_ Grandpa."

"Okay," Elizabeth mumbled.

"Thank you." Cheyenne sat down at the table with a plate of toast. "So, what's on the agenda today?"

"I have to work late," Van said.

"On a Friday?"

"Yep. Sorry."

"Alright... Well, me and Elizabeth can go pick out a movie after school if she gets a star sticker on her folder."

"Really?" The little girl asked excitedly.

"If you be good and get a sticker."

"Okay! I will!"

"Then it's settled. Hurry up and eat so we can call Grandma."

She finished up and tried to sneak off to her room, but Cheyenne caught her and said, "Elizabeth, put your bowl in the sink and come into the living room, please."

The little girl did this slowly and dragged herself to the living room where her mother was with the phone on speaker.

"When she answers, I want you to speak loud and clear," Cheyenne explained, dialing the number.

Elizabeth nodded as the phone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jake, let me talk to Mom."

"She's not up yet."

"It's nearly eight. Is Dad up?"

"Yeah. Here."

"Hello?" Brock's voice sounded over the speaker.

"Dad, hey."

"Oh, morning, Cheyenne. Whatcha up to?"

"Just getting ready to take Elizabeth to school."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Jake said Mom's still sleeping?"

"She was up all night with the baby. Found her sleeping on the floor beside the crib this morning."

"Yikes. Give her my best. But, um...Elizabeth has something she'd like to say to you concerning last night's escapade. Go ahead, Lizzie."

"I'm sorry," The little girl mumbled.

"What's that, honey?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's okay. Grandpa's not mad at you. But you have to understand, if Grandma or anyone says no, you have to be a big girl about it."

"Okay."

"Alright. Where's your mom?"

"Right here."

"Oh, alright. Hey, look who's up. Reba, honey. Phone."

"Hello?" Reba's tired voice said.

"Hi, Mom. Heard you were up all night."

"No, I was up all morning. I fell asleep on the floor."

"That's what Dad said. Take it easy today."

"Oh, I'll be fine."

"Okay, well, I have you on speaker with Lizzie and she wanted to say something about last night."

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Speak up, Lizzie."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

"Honey, you just have to understand that sometimes, the answer's gonna be no and you have to react like a young lady."

"That's what Grandpa said."

"Well, he's right."

"So, that's all we called for," Cheyenne said. "Hope you get some sleep."

"Oh, me too."

"You will. We'll talk to you later."

"Alright. Thank you for apologizing, Lizzie."

"You're welcome."

"We'll talk to you later, Mom," Cheyenne said.

"Okay. Bye, Lizzie."

"Bye."

They hung up and Cheyenne said, "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No."

"Told ya." She elbowed Elizabeth playfully, standing from the couch. "Now, let's go get Kasey ready so we can go."

* * *

><p>When Brock got home from work, the house was unnaturally quiet. No dinner was cooking and the TV was off, as well as most of the lights. Jake's backpack was flung on the floor, so he knew that his son was home, and Reba's car was in the driveway, so he knew she was here. But where?<p>

He started up the stairs and into the hall, passing Jake's room. The door was open and Jake was on his bed, looking at a magazine which he quickly put under his pillow.

"Throw it away," Brock said as he passed.

When he got into his room, the light was on, but the door to the bathroom was closed, soft piano music coming from behind it. He knocked lightly on the door.

"Jake," Reba's voice said on the other side. "I told you not to bother me unless the house was on fire."

"It's me," Brock said. "Can I come in?"

"That depends. Is a child with you?"

"No."

"Then, yes, you can come in."

Brock turned the knob and walked in to see the lights turned down low, candles lit, and classical music playing from the radio by the sink. Reba was in the tub with little Esme lying on her chest. The baby's eyes were open and she was looking around the room. After a second, her eyes landed on Brock and she started to whimper.

"Hurry and close the door. You're causing a draft."

Brock did and went and knelt by the tub. "What are you two lovely ladies doing on this fine evening?"

"We're relaxing," Reba said as she rubbed the baby's head full of dark brown hair. "She was fussy, so we got in here. Skin-to-skin contact helps babies calm down."

"You know, that's the opposite with men. This is the first time I've seen you without clothes in days."

"Yeah, well, get used to it. You have six long weeks of unsatisfactory nights ahead of you."

"I don't think I can wait that long."

"Then you'll be flying solo."

"It's no fun when you have permission." He batted at her ponytail with his hand, sighing. "When's dinner?"

"There's a lasagna in the oven."

"I didn't even smell it when I came in." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm so tired, I can hardly pay attention to anything." He reached out and touched Esme's back. "How are you, beautiful?"

"Say, I'm good. Say, I've been a very good girl today." Reba leaned her head against the back of the tub. "She was hardly fussy today, except for a while ago. She slept a lot and so did I."

"That's my girl."

Reba lifted the baby off her chest. "Here. Take her. I have to get dinner before it burns."

As soon as she was no longer in her mother's arms, she began to cry. She was shivering when Brock took her.

"Cover her up," Reba said, standing. "Get her towel. She's cold."

Brock picked up a soft, yellow towel and wrapped her in it, feeling her crying start to cease.

"That's a good girl. Don't cry." He swayed from side to side, trying to calm her down.

Reba wrapped herself in a towel and turned off the music. She blew out the candles next, before heading into their bedroom, Brock behind her.

"Hey," He said as Reba began to get dressed. "Did you know Jake has a Playboy magazine?"

"He shouldn't. I threw it away when I found it wedged between his bed and the wall."

"Well, he either got it out of the trash or got another one."

Reba groaned and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "What is wrong with him?"

"Nothing. He's male. I'll talk to him."

"Thanks." She finished dressing and turned to Brock, smiling.

"What?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"No, what?"

"Just that there's not a whole lot more sexy than a man with a baby. I just didn't want to say anything to give you any ideas."

He groaned, stomping his foot a little. "Stop bringing that up."

"You asked me to." She grabbed Esme, winking as she walked out of the room.

"Thanks for thinking I'm sexy," He called out to her, hearing her laugh as she walked down the hall.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next chapter is where it starts to get a bit more interesting. Hang in there with me! (;<strong>_


	7. Chapter 7

After Cheyenne, Kasey, and Elizabeth stopped off for a quick dinner at Elizabeth's favorite restaurant that evening, they headed to Target to let Elizabeth pick out a movie on account of her getting a star sticker on her folder for helping the teacher.

"You can pick out any movie you want," Cheyenne told her when they arrived at their destination. Elizabeth looked at the rows of movies taller than she was and began at one end, working her way down.

While she was looking, Cheyenne's phone rang. She pried it out of Kasey's hands and gave him her keys to play with before answering.

"Hello?"

"Cheyenne! Thank God!"

"Barbra Jean? What's wrong?"

"Darryl's run off with Henry and I can't get a hold of anyone."

"What? What happened? Did you call the police?"

"No. Should I?" Her voice was laced with panic. "Is it a kidnapping? I mean, he is Henry's step-father."

"Well, what happened? Did you two have a fight?"

"No. He came home drunk and just took him. He didn't say where they were going or anything and he won't answer his phone."

Cheyenne glanced at Elizabeth who was crouching down to see the bottom row of movies.

"How long has he been gone?"

"An hour and a half."

Cheyenne's heart was starting to race as she thought about how she would feel if someone took off with Elizabeth or Kasey.

"Call the police," She said. "Tell them what you told me. I'll try to reach Mom and Dad."

"Okay. Thank you, Cheyenne."

They hung up and Cheyenne dialed her mom's number.

"Elizabeth, we need to hurry, okay? Pick a movie and let's go."

* * *

><p>Reba and Brock were sitting on the couch, making out like a couple of teenagers when the phone rang for the thousandth time.<p>

"Shut it off," Brock said against her mouth.

Reba reached into her pocket, answered, hung up, then placed it on the coffee table, all without pulling away from her husband.

A second later, it rang again. This time, Reba angrily pulled away from Brock with a small pop an picked up the phone.

"What?" She answered, irritated.

Brock sat back and sighed with his arms folded, watching Reba talk.

"Cheyenne, calm down," Reba was saying. "I can't understand you." She nodded then went silent.

"What's wrong?" Brock asked, leaning forward.

Reba looked at him. "Darryl took Henry."

* * *

><p>Cheyenne got off the phone with her mom and thought about what to do next. There wasn't much she could do in Texas when Barbra Jean was in Arkansas, but the same thing was rolling through her mind that was rolling through everyone else's: Barbra Jean shouldn't have married a complete stranger because stuff like this happens.<p>

She realized she better call Van and let him in on the latest occurrences. She dialed his cell and hurried Elizabeth along once more.

"Hello?" A woman answered.

"Who is this?" Cheyenne asked.

"Rose Veometri. Who are you?"

"Cheyenne Montgomery."

"Oh, Van's wife! I'm his assistant."

"I didn't know he had an assistant..."

"I'm fairly new."

"Well, anyway. Can I talk to him?"

"Uh...he's busy."

Cheyenne made a face and said, "It's an emergency."

"He's _really_ busy."

"Let me speak to my husband."

"Fine. But make it quick."

A moment later, Cheyenne heard Van's voice. "Hello?"

"We'll talk about your rude little assistant later, but right now, there's an emergency."

"What happened? Are you and the kids okay?"

"We're fine. It's Henry. Darryl kidnapped him and Barbra Jean's freaking out."

"Who's Darryl?"

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. When Van was working, his mind didn't think about anything other than what he was doing.

"Barbra Jean's husband. They've been gone for an hour and a half. Actually, it's probably closer to two hours now."

"How does that make it a kidnapping? Isn't he the kid's step-dad? And how come no one's met this Darryl guy?"

"Barbra Jean said he was drunk. She said he just up and took him."

"Man... What's she gonna do? Does your dad know?"

"Yeah. I just called him and Mom. I'm still waiting to hear back from Barbra Jean."

"Right. Well, keep me updated."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you, too. Be home at nine. Bye."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Nine?"

"I'm putting in a lot over overtime. I have to kiss up. They're laying people off."

"Oh. Okay... Nine."

"Yeah."

"Alright. Bye, then."

"Bye."

She hung up and shoved her phone in her pocket. That's when an odd thought struck her: why in the world was Van's assistant answering his personal phone?

* * *

><p>"Brock, talk to me." Reba begged as Brock laid on their bed, staring at the wall. He didn't talk, didn't move, didn't cry. Nothing. He just laid there.<p>

"I don't know what to say," He told her after a few minutes, sighing heavily.

Reba was scared just as much as he was, even though he'd never admit that he was. She wished she could tell him she knew how he felt, but she didn't.

"Tell me how you feel," She told him, laying down beside him. She ran her fingers through his hair and waited for his response.

"I can't explain how I feel."

Reba scooted closer to him, running her touch from his hair down his arm. She could see the goosebumps she gave him. "Brock, Henry's gonna be just fine. I bet he's not evens scared."

"I just knew that sonofabitch was no good. When I went down there to get Henry, there was just something about him. If he was standing in front of me, I'd kill him."

Reba's stomach lurched. "Brock, don't talk like that. Now, I know you're upset, but don't let stuff like that enter your mind. You don't want to get all worked up and do something you'll regret."

"Reba, I get that you're just trying to make me feel better, but I don't need a life lesson right now. My son was kidnapped. You don't know how it feels to know that something like that happened and you can't do a damn thing about it."

"Brock, I understand-"

"No, you don't." He shifted to make her sit up. When she did, he said, "I just want to be alone."

Silently, Reba got up and left the room. She shut the door and stood in the hallway, not knowing where else to go.

Sliding to the floor beside the door, she brought her knees up to her chest. Thinking rationally, she knew she probably should have let Brock's comment go, but there was something so sinister about the way he said it. It really did worry her. Brock didn't get mad often, but when he did, you had better run for cover.

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><p><em><strong>Review? (:<strong>_


	8. Chapter 8

Cheyenne and Elizabeth had fallen asleep in Van and Cheyenne's room, watching Charlotte's Web. The last thing Cheyenne remembered was Wilbur being some pig. The next thing she knew, Van was shaking her awake. The room was dark except for the lamp Van had switched on, but when she opened her eyes, she saw Van's face and the television screen that had turned blue, the little DVD logo bouncing from one corner to the next. Elizabeth was gone.

"I fell asleep," She muttered, sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Ten thirty," Van said, taking his tie off.

Cheyenne's thoughts went to Barbra Jean as her hand flew to her end-table to grab her phone. Nine missed calls and three voice-mails.

The first was from Van.

"Hey, babe. Gonna be working later than I thought. Sorry. I'll try you again later. Bye."

She deleted that one and went to the next.

"Hey, Cheyenne, it's me," Barbra Jean's voice said. "Henry's back and he's okay. Just wanted to let you guys know so you wouldn't worry. Call me. Bye."

The message was deleted and Cheyenne breathed a sigh of relief.

"Henry's back," She told Van as he took off his shoes.

"Good. What happened?"

"I don't know yet."

The third message began.

"Hey, honey," Reba's tired voice said. "Henry's back. I'm sure you've heard, but I called in case you hadn't. Barbra Jean will probably want to tell you about it, so I won't. Tell Lizzie hi for me. Why dontcha bring her by tomorrow and we can have lunch? Talk to you then. Love you."

As soon as the message ended, Cheyenne dialed Barbra Jean's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Cheyenne said. "Sorry it's so late. I missed your call. I was watching a movie with Elizabeth and had my phone on silent."

"That's okay. I just wanted to tell you that Henry was back and that he's fine."

"Yeah. I got your message. What happened?"

"The police in the Ozarks found Darryl and Henry at a McDonald's. They took him into custody and brought Henry home."

"Oh, my gosh. Did he say why he did it?"

"I haven't talked to him yet, but Henry seems to be unscathed. He's sleeping now."

"Oh, that's good. At least he's okay. Do you need me to do anything, send anything?"

"No, no. I'm okay. But thanks for your support."

"Oh, you're welcome. We all love you and Henry."

"We love you all, too. Oh, wait. Someone's beeping in. Talk to you later?"

"Sure. Bye."

They hung up and oddly enough, those were the rest of the words Cheyenne spoke for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>Brock was on the phone with Barbra Jean while Reba fed Esme, trying to listen to the conversation. Which was proving to be difficult as she sat on the bed with Brock pacing up and down the hallway.<p>

Mother and daughter yawned simultaneously, and Reba wished Brock would hurry up so she could put the baby down without fear of her waking up again. A half a second later, Brock came in the room.

"So, is he okay?" Reba asked as she maneuvered Esme to her shoulder to burp her.

"Yeah," Brock said as he set his phone down on his end-table. "He's okay."

"Thank God. Did you get to talk to him?"

"No, he was sleeping. But Barbra Jean and I were talking about something."

Reba placed Esme in the crook of her arm, beginning to rock her to sleep. "Oh, yeah?"

"We were thinking about letting him come here to live for a while."

Reba looked at him, eyes wide. "What?"

"We discussed having him come live here. Now it would only be temporary. We just don't think Henry needs to be around Darryl right now. Barbra Jean says he has a drinking problem and wants to help him through it."

"Why is she putting him before Henry? She hardly knows that guy!"

"I'm not going to try and figure out why she does what she does."

"But you decided this without even talking to me?"

"Reba, you have to understand-"

"No. I don't have to understand anything. I cannot believe this. I have a four-day-old baby to take care of. Not one minute goes by where she does not need something. I don't have time to tend to a six-year-old, too."

"You're not going to be doing it alone. I'm here."

"Not all day, you're not. You're at work until five or later everyday and Jake has school from eight to three and football practice until six."

"Henry's gonna be in school, too, during the day. You'll have seven hours to take care of the baby."

"Henry will come home at three, want a snack, need help with homework and all the while, Esme is screaming her head off. And let's face it, I'm going to be getting him up, getting him dressed, getting his breakfast, doing his laundry, cooking his dinner and getting him in bed."

"I'll be doing those things. He's my son."

"That's another thing, Brock. He's _your_ son, not mine. I can't have him run wild around here and not listen to a thing I say."

"He's not a brat, Reba. And I don't even understand the problem. You took care of Jake when he was a baby while there were two other kids in the house."

"Because they were _our_ children. This was supposed to be our time to get to know Esme and raise her. Just us."

"It still is our time, but I can't turn my son away. I miss him."

"But I don't want him here."

Brock stared at her, nostrils flaring.

"I'm sorry," She continued. "But I just don't. It's not like it was when he was just visiting for a week. He'll be living here. Broken families never work out. I'm not going to lose what I have here at home."

Brock stood. "He's coming.. I'm flying down tomorrow to get him. We're in this together or we're not together." He walked out of their room and slammed the door.

Reba shook her head and laid Esme in her bassinet. She the got under the covers, turned off the lamp and listened to Esme breathe, willing the tears from Brock's angry words not to fall.

She faintly wondered if she had made a mistake.

* * *

><p>Several hours before, a man drove his stepson through the Arkansas Ozarks.<p>

"Where are we?" Henry asked.

"We're in the town where I grew up," Darryl said as he drove his rusted green Ford along the dark, dirt road.

"Oh. Why?"

"Because you're growing up. Gonna be seven soon. I'm here to help you."

"Help me do what?"

Darryl turned the radio down. "Do you love your dad? Not me, your real dad. I know you love me."

"Yeah. I love him."

"Do you want him to be with your mom again?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, guess what."

"What?"

"I know a way you can get him back here."

"How?"

"Well, see, Henry, I wasn't supposed to bring you here tonight. Your mom will probably send the cops after me."

"The cops?"

"Yep. And when they find me, they'll take me to jail."

"Jail?"

"Jail. And you mom will probably send you to your dad. If everything goes as planned, that is."

"I'll get to see my dad?"

"Yep. And that redheaded wife of his. Do you like her for stealing your dad away from your mom?"

"I dunno."

"Well, you shouldn't like her. She's a bitch."

"What's that?"

"It means she's a bad person. But anyway, this is the part where you get your dad back. When you get up there, you are gonna make that redhead's life miserable."

"Her name's Reba."

"Whatever. You're gonna torment her. Don't do a thing she says, but when your dad's around, know what you're gonna do?"

"What?"

"You're gonna be nice as pie. Eventually, Red will tell your dad that you haven't been being nice but he won't believe her because you're his son. They'll get into a huge fight and your dad will go back to your mom. It's fool-proof."

"Wow. Really?"

"Really."

"Cool. But where will you be?"

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. I'm always gonna be around." He pulled into a McDonald's parking lot and killed the engine. "When the cops come, don't get scared. They're gonna handcuff me and put me in a car. You tell them I kidnapped you and they'll take you home, okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright. Remember what I told you to do. You're a smart kid, Henry. You'll get your dad back."

Obviously, Darryl knew that Brock wouldn't go back to Barbra Jean in a million years, but he did know that Brock loved Reba and when she tells him about Henry's behavior, he's not going to believe her. They'll fight and Brock will leave with his heart shattered in pieces for losing the woman he loved for a second time. He knew their history and he could use that to his advantage. He wanted to get back at Brock for hurting Barbra Jean like he did. He was willing to serve jail time for the woman he loved so much. He just hoped Brock was more stupid and naive than he looked. He had to take the chance.

* * *

><p>Reba rolled out of bed the next morning to find Brock's side of the bed empty. Esme was sleeping peacefully in her bassinet, her belly rising and falling with each breath she took. Carefully and quietly, Reba exited the room and walked downstairs and into the kitchen just in time to see Brock walking in through the back door.<p>

Reba poured herself a cup of coffee as Brock tossed his keys onto the counter.

"Where were you?"

Brock picked up as stack of mail, avoiding her eyes. "I went for a drive."

"What for?"

"I needed to get out of the house for a little while."

"Is my presence just too much for you to bear?"

Brock rolled his eyes and dropped the mail. "Come on, Reba. I have a headache. Don't start with me."

"Don't _start_ with you? I'm not a child. Don't talk to me like that."

"Well, stop picking fights."

"I'm not picking fights."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Standing up for what I believe in. I don't want your son coming here and destroying everything I've worked so hard to build."

"His name is Henry. His name isn't My Son."

"Well, he ain't my son."

"Since we've been married, he's been your stepson."

"So? I didn't carry him for nine months, I didn't give birth to him. He's not of me."

"Yeah, well, he's of me. You just have to learn to accept that."

Then he walked out of the room.

Reba sat down and drank her coffee, listening for Esme. She didn't have to learn anything. She was going to stand her ground. No matter what.

* * *

><p>At around eleven o'clock, Cheyenne came over with Elizabeth and Kasey for lunch. Reba and Cheyenne were in the kitchen talking while Jake, who had nothing else to do, kept an eye on the kids<p>

"So, Henry's coming here?" Cheyenne asked when Reba relayed the story to her. "For how long?"

"Who knows." Reba said as she prepared a salad. "But if it was up to me, he wouldn't be coming here at all."

"Why not?"

"Because he's gotten older. He understands divorce now. He's gonna think his daddy left his mama for me and I don't want a child who thinks that in my home. He's not gonna listen to a thing I say. He's gonna run wild and wreak havoc and there's not gonna be a darn thing done about it because he's the poor, sad, little boy who got kidnapped."

"Mom. Do you hear yourself?"

"Yes."

"It sounds terrible."

"It is terrible. And I don't know how to stop it."

"Why don't you just give it a try? For Henry and Dad."

Reba sighed. "I just have a feeling."

"Feelings change."

"So do people."

Brock walked in with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder. "I'm leaving. I'll be back tomorrow sometime."

He went over and kissed the top of Cheyenne's head. "Bye, Angel." He then looked at Reba with pleading eyes. "Bye, Reba."

"Bye."

Then he was gone.

Reba looked up at Cheyenne. "People change all the time."

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p><em><strong>After typing this out, I realize what a nutcase I made Darryl. Haha. Well, anyway...this next story is the last full-length story. The very last one is going to be a oneshot. We're almost done! D: But yeah. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving! Review? (:<strong>_


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